


Todo en la Vida

by Bunny_Iras



Category: Better Call Saul (TV), Breaking Bad
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-13
Updated: 2018-06-22
Packaged: 2019-05-21 17:33:49
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,618
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14919827
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bunny_Iras/pseuds/Bunny_Iras
Summary: Everything in life. The story of the woman that became everything to Ignacio "Nacho" Varga. Set Pre/During Better Call Saul.





	1. Chapter 1

Ignacio Varga stood behind his friend, Arturo, in equal anticipation of their on coming guest and their boss’ temperament on top of that. “Tuco,” he was called. Though he could hardly speak to himself, he adopted the nickname “Nacho” whilst working in the drug world, something Ignacio was not too keen on to begin, but grew to like it because when Tuco gives someone a nickname it stayed for life. Tuco was their boss, plain and simple. Though Ignacio cared for him as one would care for a distant cousin, he mainly stayed loyal because of the consistent flow of money. Even he couldn't pass that kind of dough up. 

And so they stood there that evening, as the sun was setting of the New Mexican skyline, the tension thicker than the humidity. In front of the three stood a tall man of Russian decent; what a Russian was doing roaming around the crime syndicate of Albuquerque was beyond Ignacio, but Tuco trusted him. 

“I'm gettin’ antsy boys.” Tuco murmured as his paced back and forth in front of them. The Russian just stood still. 

“My guy will be here soon,” he said in a thick slur of an accent.

“Not soon enough.” Tuco retorted, grinding his teeth. Ignacio gave him a look of determined calm, and Tuco nodded, resetting his patience. 

Another couple of minutes passed before they saw headlights in the distance. Slowly a black, brand spankin’ new Jeep Wrangler pulled up— the sound of loud, bassy music filled the pitch black interior. The engine stopped and the person quickly opened the door.

Then the anticipation, the nervousness that Ignacio always felt with meetings like this, came upon him. No matter what situation he always felt threatened and therefore always on the lookout, always ready for a fight. However, the foot and the skinny leg that stepped out of the Jeep suddenly surprised him. 

A woman, no taller than 5’3” walked up, dressed in a stylish but professional all-black outfit, with bright blonde hair parted at the middle. Ignacio looked her up and down as she slowly stepped up next to the Russian, a look of sheer focus on her perfectly groomed eye-brows, right above big blue eyes. 

“What the fuck is this, Sev?” Tuco moaned out. “A fucking girl?” He stepped up to him but the girl suddenly pressed her palm flat on his chest and pushed him away slowly, eyeing him. Ignacio got nervous then—no one touched Tuco.

“You have a problem?” English, or British, however it was preferred Ignacio recognized the accent only from movies. It was soft, almost silky, low but gentle with the potential to be light. She stared down Tuco as Ignacio stepped foreword and pulled him back a step. Tuco held his hands up. Sev pulled the woman away as well. 

“It is alright, she is used to drug dealers not respecting her.” The woman smirked as Sev spoke and stared ahead, glancing only briefly at Ignacio. 

“How you expect me to to risk this mission on the skills of a woman, ain't no taller than my abuleta?” 

“You have very special circumstance, Tuco. Gemma, here, is my special circumstances girl. You trust me, yeah?” Tuco nodded, but only hesitantly. “Trust her.” 

The woman, Gemma, stepped forward and stuck out her hand. “Gemma St. Hart.”

Tuco, surprisingly, took her hand. Though gave her an eye of hesitation and suspicion. He did not yet trust her, but she showed respect. “Tuco Salamanca. There's are my guys; Arturo and Nacho.” He gestured to each man behind him and Gemma nodded at both. Though Ignacio could have sworn she held her gaze on him just a moment longer than Arturo's. And he held her look two-fold. But quickly she turned her attention back to Tuco who began talking about their problem and their plan. 

“We have our guy, Diego, over the border outside of Mexico City, he's being held along with 20 pounds of our product.”

“And your product being?” Gemma asked and Tuco was silent for a moment, “Shall I guess then? Heroin? Cocaine? Ah, cocaine. Alright then now we’re getting somewhere,” she paused, “You know his exact location?” 

Tuco nodded and Arturo stepped up and laid a map on the table. “Thirty-five miles North of Mexico City, we have GPS coordinates, they’re in the city Naucalpan.”

Gemma observed the map and hummed, “How’d you get those then?” 

“They sent us a ransom note.” Tuco chimed in. Ignacio saw her eyes close slowly, and she sighed out of her nose. 

“They sent you a ransom note? For twenty pounds of cocaine and a drug peddler?” Gemma glanced at Sev and sighed. “Are we negotiating with them?” 

“Hell no we’re not negotiating. Here's the fucking note.” He threw the crumpled note on the table and she picked it up to read. “I need you to go in and get my drugs and my man back, I don't care what you have to do to do that, but I'm paying you to get it done. Can you do that?” 

Ignacio watched her then, a curiosity blooming in him. She looked as though she was holding back a sigh, her teeth clenched but she swallowed and stuck the note in her back pocket. 

“I can do that. But I'll need back up.”

“The note said no guns on either side.” 

“I did read that, but I still need at least one man for backup.” She insisted, no hesitation in her voice. Pure professionalism. Like she had done this a thousand times before. 

“Alright, me or one of my men will go with you as backup.” 

Gemma looked up at Ignacio, “Fantastic, I pick him.” 

“Why him?” Tuco sounded mildly insulted. 

“I don't like the way the other one is looking at me and there's no way in hell I’m getting across the border with you in the car.” She chuckled and Ignacio bit his tongue, in an attempt to not give off his mildly-gleeful smirk. 

Tuco and Arturo began to pack up and headed out shortly after. Gemma was speaking with Sev by her car when Ignacio walked up. The woman’s eyes lit up for a moment and she stuck her hand out.

“Nacho, correct?” Ignacio nodded, “Fantastic. I would like to leave tomorrow if that’s alright with you?”

“Sounds good.” Thunder cackled in the distance and Gemma turned to the sound, a look of calm on her face as the lightning struck. Sev nodded farewell to the two and left. “Naucalpan is about a days drive—“

“I’m aware. Which is why we’re flying. We’ll be picking up a car in Mexico City and driving it back. Still sound good? You have a passport?” Ignacio nodded. 

“What time do you want to meet back here?”

Gemma opened the back door of her car and dug through a leather duffle bag before she plucked out a small flip phone. 

“Here’s a burner, I’ll text you with the details once I buy the tickets. Expect to hear from me within the next two hours.”

Ignacio slipped it into his pocket and nodded, “Should I bring anything?”

“Nope,” She popped her ‘p’ and smirked, “Just yourself and a change of clothes if you want.” She hopped into the car and left Ignacio with a wink. 

He sighed loudly, he hoped this woman knew what she was doing. 

…

It was 3 am when he received the message from Gemma that woke him from a light nap whilst he waited. 

It read: “Flight at 10a meet back at original spot 8a. ;)”

Ignacio snorted at the winking face and slapped the phone shut.


	2. Chapter 2

When Ignacio pulled up to the spot he had so recently inhabited the night before he saw Gemma leaning against her car smoking a cigarette holding two cups of coffee. He walked up to her, observing her slightly ruffled blonde hair and circular sunglasses. She wore high-waisted jeans with a white t-shirt and a black leather jacket and boots. Ignacio always had appreciated a woman with good style. 

“For you. Two sugars.” Ignacio took the hot cup hesitantly. He glanced at her, squinting one eye from the bright sun.

“How did you know what I like?” He asked.

“I didn’t, that’s just how I like it.” She smirked and nodded her head, “Come on.”

The ride to the airport was quiet, the news played gently in the background. They boarded the plane in no time. Ignacio watched Gemma carefully, the way she acted, the credit pass she used to bypass security—her calm presence was filling his head with ridiculous theories of who she actually was and why she was so good at this. 

Gemma settled herself into the seat next to Ignacio and closed her eyes. Five hours next to her was unnerving. Ignacio didn’t know her, this woman so mysterious she seemed more dangerous than most of the guys he did business with. A woman whom he immediately felt attracted to just based on principle. She was gorgeous and definitely used it to her advantage. Or so he figured. 

Lost in his thoughts for the whole ride there he hardly noticed it when Gemma nudged his shoulder. 

“Hmm?” She was leaning against his aisle seat with her bag around her shoulder. 

“We’re here.” 

…

Ignacio followed Gemma out of the airport and into the city. He’d been to Mexico City more times than he could count, and not that he was proud of it one bit. It was hot, hotter than New Mexico. And he felt like every one who looked at him was watching him suspiciously, like they knew why he was there, in their city. 

Gemma zigged in and out of crowds of people so quickly Ignacio nearly lost her twice, but her blonde hair made for an easy spot. The final time he found her at a taco stand trying to decide whether to go with steak or carnitas. 

“Dos carnitas por pieza,” Ignacio butted in and turned to Gemma, “This neighborhood smokes the best carnitas, trust me.” 

Gemma smiled at him as she handed the man cash from her bag. Their tacos came out and when Gemma took her first bite she closed her eyes softly and sighed. 

“Amazing. I love this country.” Ignacio smirked as they continued to walk down the street. They ended up at a car dealership and Gemma told him to wait outside while she walked in.

Just a short ten minutes later and Gemma walked out with a set of keys in her hand. 

“Did you just buy a car?” She just smirked and led him to an old BMW. 

On the highway out of Mexico City she finally spoke up. “Renting a car is too risky in these situations, offering cash for a car is the quickest way to get something off the lot before it becomes a liability with registration. I’ll just toss it when we get back to New Mexico, no harm done.” Ignacio nodded, still wondering how this girl was so experienced. 

The sun was setting when Ignacio called to set up the meeting. Just after sun down they were to meet the men who held Tuco’s man hostage along with the cocaine. 

…

Gemma parked off the road and shut her door quietly. Ignacio did the same. She walked around the car to meet him, but for a moment got caught up in the sky. The stars were brightest in Mexico, his father had always told him. He loved looking at them too. 

The crickets chirped loudly as they made their way through the Mexico desert. Ignacio following five feet behind Gemma. The rising moon gave a gentle glowing halo of an outline around his companion, who walked with studied purpose. Her boots hardly making a pat in the dirt, weaving around bushes and cacti. 

Ignacio observed the desert around them, eerily quiet except for a whistling breeze from the mountains. Then in the distance just over a hill he spotted the barn, a small light emanating from within. 

When they reached the barn they paused on the side, Gemma tried to peak in through the slats and he checked his back to make sure his gun was still there. No way in hell he was going into a deal without any weapons, even if that meant lying to his partner about it. He had to keep himself covered, nothing personal about it other than that. 

Gemma stepped forward but then paused and turned to Ignacio. 

“Are you ready?” She spoke quietly.

“Yes.” He nodded, unsure of why she even bothered to ask.

“Good. I don’t know how many hostage negotiations you’ve been a part of but I’ve done this countless times so just let me do most of the talking, alright?” Ignacio nodded once again. 

“Sure thing.” Gemma gave him a small smile and nodded back. Slowly she opened the door and they walked in. 

…

A single light bulb hung from the hay loft and below it sat the bricks of cocaine, three men, and their drug peddler on his knees blindfolded. 

“You Salamanca’s men?” One asked as the two stepped into the light out of the shadows.

“Yes.” Ignacio replied in English, but the men looked at Gemma and began a conversation in Spanish under their breaths. 

“I can speak Spanish, you dipshits. I don’t want to fuck around here longer than I have to. We’re here for our drugs and our man.”

“You expect us to just hand everything over to you, little girl?”

Ignacio glanced at Gemma who sighed and closed her eyes briefly. Her head tilted slightly to the left and she opened her eyes. She glanced back at Ignacio for a moment.

“Yes I do.” She looked him straight in the eye.

“And why’s that?”

“Because I’m asking you nicely.” The men laugh and Ignacio was beginning to grow even more nervous. He took a small step closer, just in case.

“Fuck off, princess.” Another one spat out. “You aren’t leaving this barn unless we get something in return.”

“We aren’t here to negotiate, buddy.” Gemma stepped forward three steps, “I’m only going to ask you once more, please kindly hand over what you’ve taken and both parties can leave this barn alive.”

“Oh yeah?” One said obnoxiously and pulled out a gun. He pointed it to the man’s head and what seemed like less than a second he shot their drug peddler straight through the skull. 

Gemma grit her teeth together and just as Ignacio was reaching to his gun Gemma pulled out her own gun and shot all three men in the forehead in less than five seconds. 

“What the fuck?” Ignacio yelled and walked up to the men, “I thought they said no guns?” 

Gemma was quiet as she checked her gun and slipped it back into her side holster. She turned to him and stepped forward. 

“Drug dealers are all the same. Nine times out of ten you can never trust a word that comes out of their mouths.” Ignacio watched as she checked their drug runner’s pulse and sighed. Dead for sure. 

“And how did you know this was one of the nine?” He asked.

Gemma stepped over one of the dead men and gently reached around his waist, beneath his leather jacket. Ignacio’s breath hitched and he closed his eyes briefly, she had probably known the entire time. With a smooth pull Gemma plucked the gun out from his waistband. 

“Because I knew if one side was lying to me, they both had to be.” She placed his gun on his chest with a poignant push and he caught it. She moved away from him and grabbed a bag to began packing up the cocaine. 

“I’m not going to apologize for bringing a gun to a drug deal. As far as I’m concerned the lie goes both ways.”

“I’m not asking you to, and I know that. I respect you for being cautious.” She picked the bag up and threw it to him. “Let’s just get back, yeah?”

The walk back to the car was silent. 

…

They started back to New Mexico from the barn in the night. Several hours into the drive they stopped to get gas. Gemma returned from the gas station with a sack in her hands. Two bottles of coke, chips, granola bars, the works. At the bottom of the bag she pulled out a CD and tore the plastic open with her teeth. 

“Do you like Marvin Gaye?” She asked.

“I do actually. How did you know?”

“Because I like him.” She smirked and ‘Trouble Man’ started as they drove through the night.


	3. Chapter 3

The two reached Chihuahua by sunrise, the both of them exhausted. Gemma rented two rooms for the night and they immediately went their separate ways for the day—Ignacio taking the duffle bag of cocaine to his room, respectively. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust her, he just didn’t want to risk the chance of losing the drugs and have Tuco on his ass. 

He watched Gemma as she entered her room next to his, until the door shut with a small clink. After several moments of standing at his own door he shook his head and entered the room, half on his way to collapse from exhaustion. 

Ignacio woke at 8pm from his nap. He rubbed his eyes and his face, tire still plaguing him. But he’d woken from a nightmare. As he did most nights, it wasn’t anything new. But he hated them all the same. 

He flipped the lamp on and caught his reflection in the window. Wrinkled and stiff. 

He dug through his suitcase and pulled out a plain black t-shirt and a pair of dark wash jeans. 

He took a shower for 15 minutes, the lukewarm water hardly doing anything for the stiffness in his muscles. But while in the shower he remembered his nightmare. The killing, the brevity of it plagued him deeply. Even still working with Tuco for years, the way she had so easily killed those men—with such skill and precision, sent chills down his spine.

On his way out of his room he triple checked the lock and made his way down to the bar. 

…

Gemma’s POV

She wasn’t tired. She sat on the bed in her room and stared at the painting on the wall for what felt like an hour. A desert scene with a pueblo house and two horses. Dull, she thought. Too dull to keep her mind occupied. 

Gemma’s mind was still reeling from killing three men not just twelve hours ago. Reeling, but in a way that she was still not used to. She was, for lack of a better word, relaxed. Her mind reeling in this sense, was adrenaline. 

She took a shower and put on fresh clothing and sat out on the balcony until the sun set, peacefully watching the city of Chihuahua close up and fall asleep for the night. She looked up but the stars were faint. It was dark but not dark enough to see them. 

Inside the room she wandered, looking and observing every nook and cranny. On the night stand was a brochure for the bar downstairs, and then she figured—why not?

…

Ignacio ordered a beer and took to watching the soccer game they had on rerun behind the bar. It wasn’t busy, only a few patrons in booths and him alone at the bar. As he was finishing up his beer he heard the door open and a gust of chilly wind came in. 

The seat next him was filled and he looked over to see none other than Gemma herself, hair in a loose high bun wearing a soft looking dark green shirt and loose fitting high waisted Levi’s, but barefoot. For a moment he wondered why, but he figured since this was their hotel she probably didn’t bother. Which was just another puzzle piece in his unconscious plight to understand her. 

“Hello there stranger.” She said, smiling softly. 

Ignacio didn’t know if it was because she was a woman, or because she was incredibly respectful but he felt incredibly calm and comfortable around Gemma. She had a quiet, almost stealthy presence, and a persistent demeanor. 

“Hello.” He responded back. 

“Can I get you another?” She offered and Ignacio nodded. “Una más de estas, por favor, y dos fotos de eso.” She spoke to the bartender in perfect Spanish, pointing to a bottle of silver tequila. Every moment with this woman and Ignacio was becoming more and more fascinated by her. More pieces. 

“Thank you.” He said, taking a sip of the new beer. She held up a shot and clinked it against his glass. 

“Job well done then, Nacho.” She took a sip and he watched her nose crinkle. Cute, he thought. But then he realized that she called him Nacho and the name felt wrong and strange coming from her mouth. 

“You know my name isn’t really Nacho.” 

Her eyebrows raised, “Really? I figured it was a family name.” She joked dryly. Ignacio didn’t know how to really respond to her joke as she took another sip of tequila. “What’s the real name then?”

“You don’t already know?”

She smirked then to herself, taking the last sip. “I figured I’d let you tell me if you wanted, as it was the polite thing to do.” 

Ignacio chuckled and eyed her, “The polite thing to do? You remember you just killed three men yesterday?” 

“I remember it well, fondly even.” He chuckled and watched her take in the whole shot of tequila. She gestured to the bartender for two more and slid one over to him. “I’d say it was a successful trade though, Tuco still gets his shit without the burden of his hesitant runner. What do you say, Ignacio?”

He smirked, his name on her lips… He took his shot and nodded, “Tuco’s gonna be pissed.”

“I’m sure he’ll get over it.” Ignacio chuckled at her sentiment. 

“You obviously don’t know Tuco.” 

“Oh yeah?” Gemma inquired. “Is he as horrid as people say his uncle is?”

“You know about Don Hector?”

“Don Hector…” She sighed, “Who doesn’t know who that man is?” 

“Tuco isn’t as smart as Hector, but makes up for it in violence and drugs. I once saw him stab a man through the eyes while on crank because he suspected him of shorting his sales.” Her eyebrows raised. 

“Christ,” she muttered. “I didn’t know he used his own product.” She said with hesitation, almost frustration. 

“Been doing it for years. Whatever new product we move on to—Tuco tests it out and becomes addicted to it in one way or another.”

“Why do you work for a man like that?” Ignacio was silent, “You seem like you have a good head on your shoulders—those broad shoulders and you’re calm, kind of the exact opposite of Tuco.”

“I’ve known Tuco since we were kids and it’s easy money.”

“Is it?” She ordered two more shots for them and sighed.

“Most days. What about you? Why do you work in this business? You don’t seem to…fit.” 

Gemma chuckled and Ignacio felt his chest thump. 

“Which is why I’m the perfect person for this business.” His eyebrows raised but he nodded, she was right. Gemma was used to being underestimated, which is what gave her the upper hand. Even he underestimated her until they arrived in Mexico. She leaned back in her chair and pulled one leg up and hugged it to her chest. She began to fold one of the bar napkins. 

“When we get back to Albuquerque I think it might be best if you let me do the talking with Tuco.” She nodded, folding corners. “Let him know they double-crossed us with the guns, but we got away with all the stuff.” 

Gemma nodded again, setting her napkin creation between them. Ignacio looked down and saw the small crane, leaning crooked between two shots of tequila. 

…

The next morning the two partners woke up bright and early and started on their trek across the border. Gemma drove while Ignacio sat watching the city horizon turn into desert. 

Soon enough they were seeing signs for the border crossing junction. 

“So how are we getting this shit past the drug dogs?” Ignacio gestured toward the back of the car. 

“I have a plan.” She said plainly. 

“Which is?” 

Suddenly Gemma pulled over to the side of the road and turned the car off as she stepped out. She opened the trunk and pulled out her duffle bag. She pulled out two of the most hideous looking Hawaiian/tropical shirt he’d seen in his entire life; one with a red scheme, one blue. Gemma threw one at him. 

“You’ve got to be shitting me, I’m not wearing this.”

“My plan is to distract, and I can’t do it all on my own. But trust me, this works.” She gestured for him to turn around and just as he did she slipped her shirt off and replaced it with the Hawaiian one. Only briefly did Ignacio get a glimpse of her waist. He watched her pull her hair into a pony tail and clip a bright pink visor around her head that said “Viva La Mexico.” Then she plucked out a bottle of sunscreen a plopped a big chuck onto her nose. She held it out to him but he shook his head.

“I’ll wear the shirt but I’m not putting that shit on my face.”

“Suit yourself, if they see through you and we get sent to prison it’ll be all your fault.” Ignacio slipped his shirt off and pulled the Hawaiian one on. Sighing he grabbed the sunscreen from her hand and put a little on his nose. 

“Happy?” 

Gemma walked up to him and fixed his collar. “Over-joyed. Now come on.”

…

They pulled into the long line of cars and trucks attempting to cross the border. Why Gemma chose to go out of the way through the busiest check point was beyond him, but he trusted her. For the moment. 

When they pulled up to the booth an officer with a shot gun bent down to look around the car. 

“Hola!” Gemma said in the worst Texan accent he’d ever heard, he covered his mouth in an attempt not to laugh. “How are you today?” She handed him their passports.

“Just fine m’am, how about you?” The officer asked as he looked through them. 

“Oh we’re just wonderful! We’re just headed back to El Paso from our honeymoon in Mexico City, ain’t that right hun?” Gemma grabbed his hand and held up her left to show the officer a diamond ring. “It’s a non-conflict diamond that my husband designed himself. Isn’t it just drop dead gorgeous?”

“Very beautiful, m’am. You guys are all good. Have a nice day.” He handed Gemma the passports.

“Thank you so so much, darlin’. You have a fantastic day!” 

Gemma drove off quickly. Once they passed the full border her smile fell and she flung off her visor and threw it out the window. 

“Fucking Christ I hate doing that one.” She mumbled to herself.

“You just got us through a border check point with cocaine in the backseat in under a minute.”

“I told you darlin’, it works.” She said, sneaking in the Texas accent. “Take a gander at my passport.”

Ignacio flipped her passport open to see a photo of her with the name June B. Varga beneath. 

“Jesus Christ.” Ignacio laughed. “You’re…” he paused, “You’re good.”

“Not just good,” Gemma paused to slip her sunglasses on and smile at him, “—the best.”


End file.
